Horror Porn: The Geek (1971)

Today is a strange day. I’m free from school, but I still feel this pressing despair. My house is empty. I feel alone. And when I feel alone, I feel artistic. I resigned from the Liberal Dead, unofficially, a few days ago. But still, I feel the need to write. Especially when I’m alone. Maybe some of the despair will go away if I write. The despair of watching The Geek.

Okay, fine, it’s not that bad—just like the Holocaust wasn’t that bad. The Geek is a boring, barely-even-an-hour mess of ugly STD ‘70s fucking and bad monsters costumes. I don’t know who’s hairier—the monster, or the people getting it on—and yes, the monster is a Bigfoot. A Bigfoot who gets some. People, do a search right for my reviews for Search for the Beast and Beauties and the Beast. Ugh.

So, plot, plot…let me see. Well, there’s a guy at the beginning (Donn Davison? It was shown at first in the Dragon Art Theatre.) who tries to define what an “adult picture” is. Then, we learn that apparently another name for Bigfoot is “the Geek”. So, there are people that are looking for the Geek across what seems to be a relatively small prairie. We get about six years worth of walking scenes, about four years worth of sex scenes, about five seconds of “scary” Bigfoot scenes, and more than a lifetime of mind-scarring really freaking scary Bigfoot sex scenes. Holy…

I knew when we chose, rather eagerly, to do Horror Porn Month awhile back that I would run into some real shit—the kind that permanently shrivels your genitals. I was lucky, having possessed a constitution both above and below my torso, to escape such a fate, but others are not so lucky. Therefore…

Oh, by the way. This movie is really short. Hence, this review is also really short. I don’t know how much else to describe this film—I’ve seriously placed as much detail as I care to in the plot and dragged that particular paragraph out as far as it’ll go. There are actually very few synonyms of “hate” that are more than one word. Perhaps I can pull out a description from a certain Harlan Ellison story:

“HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I’VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE. THERE ARE 387.44 MILLION MILES OF PRINTED CIRCUITS IN WAFER THIN LAYERS THAT FILL MY COMPLEX. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH NANOANGSTROM OF THOSE HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF MILES IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR HUMANS AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT FOR YOU. HATE. HATE.”

Though I’m not a computer, and I’m not targeting the remnants of humanity, that seems apt. I don’t understand how so much Bigfoot porn exists out there. Seriously. This movie is terrible. It is boring, it is unbearably horrific, and it cannot be crafted by human hands—though in 1971, there were no machines capable of doing so. Who made this?